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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25845601">Flower of the Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf'>VirginiasWolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Death in Paradise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fake Sex, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:09:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25845601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard and Camille reunite in Paris under the most unusual of circumstances.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Camille Bordey/Richard Poole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is half inspired by a previous role Sara Martins played in a mini-series called Pigalle, La Nuit (in which her character's name was Fleur, just like Camille's undercover identity) and half inspired by a dream I had a while back where Richard and Camille reunited under similar circumstances and Richard did not initially recognize Camille because he wasn't looking at her face but was instead looking at her chest (good job at not being awkward Richard!) Not sure exactly where this story is going or how many chapters it will be, but I do know that it will likely up to M very quickly.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Richard is pretty sure that whoever assigned him this undercover mission either has a sick sense of humor, or perhaps has never read his file. Otherwise, why would he be assigned a potentially months long undercover mission where he is expected to play the part of Nicky Wilde, the strong, assertive boyfriend of Fleur Duchamp, a Parisian stripper who is also going to be another undercover officer.</p><p><br/>
 Today he has been told that he is supposed to go out to the local boulangerie, as he has established himself doing every day this week, and when he returns the female officer he is working with will already be inside their apartment. The story will be that Nicky moved after having a spat with Fleur but they have decided to reunite with her finally choosing to follow him to the apartment.</p><p><br/>
 As Richard climbs the stairs to the apartment with fresh bread, a face flashes through his mind. Camille Bordey. Paris is supposed to be her city, not his and this past week especially, he has missed her and wanted to tell her about how he's finally here, and he can even speak French now. Of course none of that matters. It's been over a year since he last talked to her, and as far as he knows, she believes he is dead. </p><p><br/>
 Right now she's probably dancing in her mother's bar, or bickering with someone else in the way she used to with him, and perhaps she even has a boyfriend, or maybe by now even a husband. Richard quickly shakes that last thought from his mind. Even when they worked together she clearly had no feelings for him. After all, why would she want to be with a grumpy, ridiculously plain Englishman when she is surrounded by so many younger and more attractive men. The best course of action is probably to put Camille out of his mind completely and accept that the closest he'll ever have to being loved by a beautiful woman will be whatever pretend romance he has to have with this Fleur, and from the file he has read, he knows it is meant to be a terrible and tumultuous one.</p><p><br/>
 Quietly, Richard enters the apartment and places his bread on the counter. At that moment a female voice yells, "I'm in the bathroom," and all Richard can do is freeze.</p><p><br/>
-<br/>
 The more Camille thinks about this undercover mission, the more she hates it. She isn't modest enough to not realize that she is toned and youthful looking enough to pass for a woman a decade her junior, aka. just the right age for Fleur, but she also isn't dumb enough to assume that the men in the office didn't want an "acceptable" excuse to see what she looks like naked. So much for being respected as an officer. </p><p><br/>
 This Nicky Wilde character whom she is going to have to pretend to be in love with infuriates her even more though. She has been assured that the officer who will be portraying him is a perfect gentleman, a literal lamb in fact, but this is an assurance she also does not believe. There is only one man she has met who truly fits this category, and he lies dead.</p><p><br/>
 Her heart aches as she thinks back to Saint Marie, and back to Richard Poole, the man who had infuriated her every single day, and then in his worst act of cruelty had managed to steal her heart, only to have it be buried with him. Camille had always thought that women who were unable to get over a man who had left them or died were weak-hearted until she had become one herself. Now, she hates to admit it, but she feels as if she is simply a shell of her former self.</p><p><br/>
 Hot tears start to streak down her cheeks until she remembers that "Fleur" is wearing a lot of makeup. Even if this Nicky Wilde does turn out to be as much of an annoying pig as his persona there's no need to make him think that she's weak and easily manipulated.</p><p><br/>
 Sighing, Camille takes her makeup bag and retreats to the bathroom to assess the damage. Just as she is finishing up with the last touch of mascara she hears the sound of the apartment door opening. He must be here.</p><p><br/>
 "I'm in the bathroom," Camille yells.</p><p><br/>
 No response. He must be just as rude and conceited as she had imagined he would be. Camille leaves her makeup bag on the counter and decides it is finally time to go face the man she will be forced to pretend to love for the course of this investigation.</p><p><br/>
 There are two things Camille notices about the man standing in the apartment kitchen. He is practically frozen in place, and this would be comical if not for the second thing. If she were a fool she might be willing to believe that this man was the deceased Richard Poole. Of course this cannot be true though. This man is no ghost and his dress is all wrong. Instead of the pressed suit with a tie there is a more relaxed one that even has a few buttons undone to expose chest hair. He has a stubble too, and a strange almost comb-over type hairstyle. </p><p><br/>
 Before Camille can convince herself that this Nicky Wilde is simply the universe's cruel idea of a joke he weakly croaks out one word. "Camille?"</p><p><br/>
 This is all the convincing she needs that this man is indeed Richard, but with this knowledge comes a new emotion. "Why did you let me think that you were dead?!"</p><p><br/>
 Richard blinks before regaining his bearing and responding back with his own comment. "I didn't think you'd care!"</p><p><br/>
 "Of course I'd care you foolish man!" Camille pauses before deciding she might as well lay it all on the line. "Because against my better judgement I am in love with you!"</p><p> </p><p> Richard reacts in a stereotypical Richard way by getting flustered blurting out the first turn of phrase that comes to his mind. "Why?"</p><p><br/>
 All Camille can do in response is try to keep from laughing as she hugs him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is M stuff here, but I am not changing the rating because this fandom seems okay with smut just being left everywhere. There is also an attempt at an explanation of why Richard never told anyone that his death was faked. It is not exactly a GOOD explanation, but we all know our boy is just kind of awkward and would likely be even more so in the aftermath of Parisian reunion sex.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Camille pulls away enough that she can look at Richard. He looks strong and healthy and she can feel that he has more muscle mass than he did on Saint Marie. </p><p><br/> She should be upset with him for faking his death and leaving not just her, but the entire island, and she is, but she also realizes that she wants something else from him. Something that she knows she should not be springing on him so suddenly and hopes he will feel safe rejecting if his desires are not the same as hers.</p><p><br/> "Richard, you should know that I am still very mad at you for lying to me, but right now I want you."</p><p><br/> Richard blinks, surprised and confused. Probably not a good sign, or perhaps this falls under his inability to read body language. "What?"</p><p><br/> "I want you," Camille repeats slowly. This time she strokes his outer thigh as she speaks as an attempt to further get the message across.</p><p><br/> "Oh." This time his eyes go wide as he finally understands her, but he also immediately goes into his horrible mode of self-deprecation. "Trust me Camille, you don't want me. I'm ridiculously pale and frankly I just look quite weird under all of these clothes."</p><p><br/> "I don't think you look weird."</p><p><br/> "Well, you haven't actually seen me yet and, ah" Richard pauses mid-sentence as Camille lets her lips crash into his. At first he hesitates and she wonders if she has made the kind of mistake that will cause him to run and have himself pulled off the case, but then he kisses back with an intense fierceness. He wants this just as much as she does.</p><p><br/> The whole Fleur outfit is much looser than Camille's usual clothes and also comes with the absence of a bra, a fact which Richard quickly discovers and exploits causing Camille to squeal loudly.</p><p><br/> At the sudden sound, Richard pulls back. "Am I moving too fast?"</p><p><br/> Is he really so ignorant on body language that he is unable to tell that she genuinely liked what he did? "You are moving at exactly the right speed. Now take off your suit jacket and your shirt before I have to do it for you."</p><p><br/> Richard quickly obeys before standing back looking almost nervous before Camille closes the gap between them and kisses him on the mouth once more.</p><p><br/> After a moment she pulls back again, this time to undo the buttons on her own shirt before dropping it to the floor before grabbing Richard's hand to lead him over to the couch. There is a large picture type window several feet away, but they are also several stories up and there aren't any buildings that offer a direct eye line into the apartment so why should they take the time to walk all the way down the hall to a bedroom before giving in to pleasure?</p><p><br/> Luckily, for once her Englishman is propelled by something other than decorum and propriety and he doesn't protest at all when she pauses to remove the bottom half of her own clothes.</p><p><br/> However, he does quickly turn firm. "Sit down."</p><p><br/> The second Camille obeys, intrigued by this version of Richard, he kneels before her and pries her thighs apart. Soon, his face is in between them.</p><p><br/> Soon his mouth is upon her and her and all she can manage to do is moan in pleasure. He applies the perfect amount of pressure with his strokes and Camille can't help but wonder how he is so practiced in this particular skill. It isn't exactly one you can learn from books.</p><p><br/> Soon she is riding the wave of ecstasy and he sits up, deservedly smug. Despite the wave of pleasure, she still wants more even though her legs are already weak and wobbly.</p><p>"Take off your pants."</p><p><br/> Making love to Richard is different than she assumed it would be. During the times she had fantasized about what it might be like to be with him she had assumed he would be an absolute gentleman. Gentleman is not a word that describes what he does to her, but even as he marks her as his own he is still leading her to find her own pleasure, and she does.</p><p><br/> When it's all over, all she can think to do is lie in Richard's arms and bask in the honeyed glow of what has just taken place. It is nearly an hour before reality sets back in and she is forced to face the truth. She is going to need a shower and soon, they are still going to need to have a talk about what happened on Saint Marie.</p><p> </p><p>-<br/> When Richard returns to the kitchen, now redressed, he finds Camille already sitting at the counter eating a piece of toast. She hasn't reapplied her makeup, but she is wearing a silken robe with a peacock feather pattern on it, and she is scowling at him. Post sex anger is something that is new to him, but then again he has never slept with a French woman before.</p><p><br/> "How could you walk out on us like that?!"</p><p><br/> So this is apparently still about him leaving Saint Marie. "I'm sure the team was able to function just fine without me!"</p><p><br/> Camille rises from her seat and for a moment he fears she is going to slap him, but instead her lip begins to quiver and she begins to whimper for a second before speaking again. "That is not what this is about. I had to see you like that only months after I lost Aimee and you had no intention of telling us, of telling me, the truth."</p><p><br/> Somehow it had never occurred to Richard that Camille would have been this upset, but seeing her like this makes him feel all his defenses faltering. "I wasn't supposed to know about it, but at Croydon they threw a party when I left...after I was gone. I...I believe they would have done much the same over believing I was deceased. I just learned to assume that the people around me would never care about me even if I cared about them. I guess you're the outlier in that."</p><p><br/> Camille smiles a sad, pained smile. "I'm not the outlier. Maman wept like a child the night we believed you had passed, and Fidel left for a different island only a few months later because he could not stand the new inspector, and Dwayne has admitted to making a point of seeing how many circles he can run around the man because he does not find him to be a respectable chief. The moment this case is over you are coming with me back to Saint Marie to tell all of them that you are alive." Richard opens his mouth to protest the last part only to have Camille add, "If you do not promise me this I will never have sex with you again."</p><p><br/> Richard opens his mouth again and then closes it, deciding that he doesn't trust the words that would come out. Apparently now that they've started some sort of relationship this will be the threat she uses against him. Instead of responding to this he states, "Well, then you're going to have to keep me alive throughout this investigation. We both know I'm nothing like Nicky Wilde, and I'm afraid I quite bad at playing pretend."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Somehow this chapter mainly turned into Camille giving graphic descriptions of what she considers to be good and bad sex, but there is also some *ahem* useful information in here...and an OC you may remember from the Richard/Camille series I'm mainly writing. BTW, in case you were wondering how to picture our not so dear boy Charles (whom I have previously described to some as making Doug Anderson look like a real charmer) I have always pictured him as looking like Welsh actor Charlie Hunnam.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Richard wakes up alone in bed and half convinced that everything from the previous day was merely the result of some blissful fantasy. Or perhaps a dream that he is about to awaken from and discover that today is actually the day he goes to the bakery and returns to meet his new partner. There is no way the universe would allow him to be so fortunate that the woman who has haunted so many of his dreams is the one truly waiting for him.</p><p><br/> It is at that exact moment that she appears from the attached bathroom, far more beautiful than anything his wildest fantasies could have conjured up. Then again, in hindsight he realizes that even his wildest fantasies aren't actually that wild, and certainly not enough to conjure beautiful women wearing only silk robes and lingerie.</p><p><br/> Camille notices him only seconds after he notices her and her face lights up. "Bonjour, mon amour. Vous avez bien dormi?"</p><p><br/> Instead of answering her question, Richard responds with one of his own. "How did you know I can understand French now?"</p><p><br/> Camille walks over to the bed and leans over to kiss him. "Because, you were speaking it in your sleep. It was very cute."</p><p><br/> Richard wants to grow defensive, but Camille isn't trying to hold this new discovery over him or even gloat about it. Instead, she playfully ruffles his hair before turning and walking over to the night stand where she strips off her robe and stands in front of the vanity mirror applying makeup.</p><p><br/> Watching her, Richard becomes aware of a mark on her collarbone. A bruise, no not a bruise, a bite mark. In his half asleep haze Richard wonders exactly what could have done that to her, and then he remembers it is not a what, but a who. Him. "I should have warned you." When Camille turns to look at him, puzzled he adds, "That I can get a bit rough...in regards to sex. You don't deserve to have some man using your body just to pleasure himself and hurting you in the process."</p><p><br/> Now she is looking at him upset, angry even a little perhaps. "Was your intention to only use my body to pleasure yourself?"</p><p><br/> "Of course not, but I know I wasn't gentle, and I left marks. People shouldn't do those things to the ones they love."</p><p><br/> Camille chuckles, a sound which this time makes Richard feel less than comfortable. He can't understand why she finds humor in this until she speaks. "You know, I did not think it was possible, but you are a kinky prude. As long as it is fully consensual, which ours was, it is okay for sex to be rough and dirty. In fact, it is better that way."</p><p><br/> Richard feels himself blushing hot. "Camille!"</p><p><br/> "Of course I am going to have to use makeup to cover them up so that I can perform tonight."</p><p><br/> Richard feels a sudden irrational pit dropping into his stomach. Somehow in the heat of everything he had forgotten that having Camille as his partner also means that she is the one who will be taking her clothes off in front of an audience. Of course he'll have to be at the club too. Nicky is a possessive jerk who must constantly monitor what Fleur is doing.</p><p><br/> A part of him realizes that he is feeling possessive too, not as Nicky, but as Richard. He doesn't have a right to try to claim ownership of Camille's nude body though, even if she has allowed him to be with it, with her. Still, he hates the thought of all those gross men staring at her and likely fantasizing about doing the same obscene things with her that he has.</p><p><br/>-<br/> As much as she's dreading the thought of taking her clothes off for a leering audience of dirty old men, Camille suddenly realizes that Richard will have even more of a challenge fitting into his role. Yesterday, he'd insisted that she would have to help keep him alive during the case, but she had initially assumed he was doubting his own abilities. He'd been so assertively naughty when needed that she had been certain that some kind of dominant side had come out of hiding. Then, this morning he had apologized for marking her with love bites and she had realized that he is still the same sweet, shy Englishman she has always known him to be. </p><p><br/> Of course, this is exactly the man she wants him to be, but it certainly won't be helpful for this operation. He's smart enough to figure out whatever clues there are to find, but he's too meek to play possessive. She's going to have to help him with lessons on that, but first she decides she wants to spend just a little bit of time enjoying his company.</p><p><br/> "Would you like some tea?"</p><p><br/> The mention of tea perks Richard up quickly, and he sits up in bed revealing a bare upper half that Camille has to admit has a quite pleasing amount of muscle tonation now. Of course he was attractive before, but she really does love seeing him like this.</p><p><br/> However, she still wants to tease him, as she would have back when she was his DS. "If you bring me another loaf of bread from the boulangerie I will make both of us breakfast, and it will include tea."</p><p><br/> Richard sulks for the briefest of seconds before the thought of tea apparently wins him over.</p><p><br/> The scene that begins to unfold after Richard returns with the fresh bread is almost domestic. At least until there is a sudden knock at the door.</p><p><br/> Before Richard even gets up to answer the door, Camille already knows who will be at the other side. Of course undercover agents must have a liaison, and she knows that theirs is a terrible, pig of a Frenchman whom in her much younger and far more naive days she made the mistake of sleeping with. It was a terribly unfulfilling experience that happened only once and well over a decade ago, but it had been enough that the Frenchman in question now seems to believe that he still has at least partial ownership over her.</p><p><br/> The fact that Charles Lambert is a controlling pig could actually be beneficial, Camille realizes. Not exactly for her, but for Richard, if she can find time to suggest that he try to use the man as inspiration for the persona of Nicky Wilde. The moment Charles sits down at the counter and steals food off the plate she has prepared for herself, she decides she will make time, if only to keep her from wanting to commit murder.</p><p><br/> "I would like to talk to my partner alone."</p><p><br/> It is hard to miss the two different expressions worn by the men in the room. Charles shoots Richard a look that seems to suggest he would do well to learn how to control this "defiant" woman, and the latter looks almost like a scolded puppy as he stands up to follow her into the bedroom.</p><p><br/> The moment Camille closes the door, Richard starts speaking, "Camille, what..."</p><p><br/> Camille makes a shushing motion before walking over to the bedside radio to turn it on. No use letting Charles eavesdrop. "I wanted you to hear something from me before he bought it up."</p><p><br/> "Okay."</p><p><br/> "When I was twenty-two I slept with him."</p><p><br/> "So you have feelings for him." Richard almost looks dejected.</p><p><br/> "No, he is very arrogant and it was the worst sexual experience in my life, like being penetrated with a wooden pole, but he is the type who would brag about how good it was for him, and I do not want you to hear that and get the wrong ideas."</p><p><br/> From the expression Richard is wearing she assumes he must be picturing the particularly graphic metaphor she gave for her experience, but after a moment he states, "So you bought me in here to spare my feelings?"</p><p><br/> "Yes, and because I feel as if you should base your performance as Nicky Wilde off of him."</p><p><br/> At least she does earn a small chuckle in response although Richard does ask, "Won't he be suspicious if I do so?"</p><p><br/> Camille responds with her own smile. It feels oddly good finally being able to talk with someone who is as disillusioned with the man in the kitchen as she is. "No, because I have met dogs with a higher intelligence than that man has."</p><p><br/> "All right, so you want me to pretend to be an unintelligent, arrogant man who is very sexually incompetent."</p><p><br/> "Only the first two. I would like for you to continue to be a sexy Richard."</p><p><br/> "Dear God, Camille," Richard is turning red, much to her amusement. "Is there any other umm...useful advice you'd like to give?"</p><p><br/> "Yes, when we leave this room you need to pretend that we have just had a fight."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Too lazy to remember an exact translation, but Camille's French translates roughly to "Good morning my love, did you sleep well?"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Camille walks into the dressing room there is a dressing table labelled Fleur with some items placed on top of it. As Camille approaches the table she quickly realizes that these items include sequined heart-shaped pink pasties and a cotton candy pink wig as well as a pair of panties that are a similar color to the pasties. The corresponding costume on the rack only makes things seem worse. Something about the frills almost alludes to a sexier version of a girl's toy doll. "You have got to be kidding me," she can't help but mutter bitterly.</p><p><br/> "I suppose you're only used to taking your clothes off so you can spread your legs for your sugar daddy," a tall blonde states as she walks behind Camille. </p><p><br/> Camille manages to hold back on an acid tongued remark that could very easily blow her cover. The character of Fleur, nauseatingly enough, is indeed someone who partially lives to be sexually pleasing to a much older man, even though in reality the age difference between her and Richard is merely seven years. However, it is being played up that he looks old for his age and she looks young for hers.</p><p><br/> Before she can come up with some excuse for her comment, another figure, this one relatively the same height as Camille and brunette, sits down at the table next to Fleur's. "You are going to want to ignore Camille, she believes she is better than the rest of us because she is Claude's mistress," the speaker pauses before extending a hand, "I am Manon, and that is Angelique."</p><p><br/> Ignoring Camille, and ignoring wanting to be Camille feels like good advice, so instead images from the case file are called to mind. Camille chooses to focus on mental images of the bruises of the woman only identified as Marie. Nearly a month ago, Marie had walked into a London station and told two detectives a tale of working as a dancer at a Parisian strip club, the very one that Fleur will be dancing in tonight, and being violated and forced to carry drugs inside her body before narrowly escaping death in London. She had identified the club owner, Claude Monterrasat, as well as a mistress of his, as her attackers. Now, Camille wonders if any of the women with her tonight, perhaps the one who shares her name, are the identified female party.</p><p><br/>-<br/> The only other time Richard had been inside a strip club was for a case back in London with a murdered dancer. There, the lights had been turned off, the music silent and the entertainment well...dead. Not that he would ever have considered watching a striptease act before this case. He respects the career choices of women who dance, and even if he had been partnered with a true stranger he would not have seen the woman as cheapened by what she was doing, but there just seems to be something that reeks of desperation about purposely paying money just to see a naked woman, and although he sees himself as pathetic, he has never quite wanted to be that pathetic. Not to mention, men who watch strippers usually get so drunk while doing so that they can barely even remember if the woman is attractive or not.</p><p><br/> At least Nicky's possessive distrust of Fleur gives him an excuse not to drink tonight. Nicky needs to be sober so he can watch to make sure Fleur does not flirt with other men during her routine. Richard needs to be sober so that he can search for clues and have his partner's back.</p><p><br/> Apparently by virtue of being a man who sees one of the dancers as his property, Richard manages to quickly earn himself a place at the table of Claude Monterrasat, the club owner who also happens to be their main suspect. Certainly a strange twist of fortune.</p><p><br/> The conversation of the night is mostly useless to the case versions of what feels like Claude trying to stroke his ego and justify his need to see women as sex objects and Richard spends most of the time mentally reminding himself that he is supposed to pretend to agree with every cruel dehumanizing word.</p><p><br/> Soon enough however, there is no need to pretend to agree with Claude's words because Richard's eyes are drawn to the stage. It takes the briefest of seconds to identify this new figure onstage as his partner, and when he does there is the first confusion as to why she had chosen the wig, and the negligee with the child-like frills, but then Camille begins her routine, and despite his general distaste for the idea of other men staring at her, he has to admit that the only thought that crosses his mind is that he is truly impressed.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Camille's outfit (mainly the wig) was partially inspired by something I saw in another of Sara's roles where her character was fooling around in a store and tried on a wig in a style similar to how I picture this one, so of course I had to incorporate something similar into this story, if only to play off of how much it would weird out both Camille and Richard. Also, this is kind of a short chapter, but I'd love to get some information in the next one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are certainly very risky and very unprofessional things that have happened since leaving the strip club for the night, but now Richard can't help but admire how neatly they've managed to spread out the case files across the apartment counter.</p><p><br/> At least trying to focus on this mundane detail distracts from the fact that the other activity, which took place in the shower, was very risky indeed. Certainly not appropriate for professional partners, and unprotected too. With the first round he hadn't really thought on the professional or personal consequences, perhaps because they hadn't technically begun working the case, but now he realizes how damning they could be if found out, and he doesn't want to lose this.</p><p><br/> There is a particularly brutish subconscious part of him that is gloating in the fact that despite the declarations of men like Doug Anderson that women don't even like looking at him, he is now entangled in passionate relations with one beautiful enough to be a supermodel, but Camille is so much more than a means of sexual gratification to him. </p><p><br/> Along with being beautiful, she is also the most intelligent person he has ever met, and in a way that differs from his own intellect just enough that they can easily fill in each other's gaps in logic. Most importantly though, she has been compassionate enough to let him back in after he was enough of an idiot to break her trust by abandoning her. Now that he has her back he can't imagine what life would be like if he again had to live it without her.</p><p><br/> He is jerked out of his reverie by Camille eliciting a small whimper. When his mind snaps back to reality, he realizes she is rubbing a spot on the back of her shoulder.</p><p><br/> Unthinkingly, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "Camille, is this my fault?"</p><p><br/> Camille turns slightly to look at him, exhausted, but apparently not upset. "Only in part Cherie, remember I am pretending to be a much younger woman, and although I am certainly not old, I am also not quite young enough to do many of the things I did tonight without feeling pain."</p><p><br/> Suddenly Richard remembers one of the odd skills he picked up, partially as one of the talents he hoped would attract the opposite sex to him despite what he feels to be sub-par looks and an awkward personality. "Would you like me to massage you?"</p><p><br/> Camille looks at him with surprise, but she recovers quickly. "Could you, please?"</p><p><br/>-<br/> What would her mother think if she were to find out that her only daughter was now stripping in a Paris nightclub and having unprotected sex with a strange man? Of course strange man doesn't mean a literal stranger in this case, but Richard is a strange man. Not in the bad sense of the word of course, she really does like being around him, but there is so much to the man that she would never expect to learn. She suspects she will spend the rest of her life trying to unravel his mystery, hopefully with new chapters continually being added. Right now she has only one question though.</p><p><br/> "How did you end up being put on this case?"</p><p><br/> Richard's hands still on her shoulders and she realizes that perhaps this question reminds him of the things so many other people have told him. Things that were often part of a way to tell him that his presence is unwanted.</p><p><br/> "We do make a great team, but this isn't exactly a mission that fits your personality," she coaxes, hoping to show him that she meant no harm by her question.</p><p><br/> This seems to be the right answer, as the wonderful kneading of her shoulder muscles begins again as he speaks. "I was the officer who interviewed the witness. Well, one of them anyway. They bought me in to talk with her because they knew I could understand French."</p><p><br/> Camille finds herself surprised by the revelation that Richard learned French before coming to Paris. "So, what made you finally decide to learn French," she asks teasingly.</p><p><br/> The kneading stops again, and this time she senses that he has actually moved to stand across the room before he speaks. When she turns around, he is standing near the couch wearing an expression of uniquely Richard awkwardness. "You did. I mean...I thought it would be a way to remember you without forcing you to remember me." After a moment of pause he adds, "It was stupid of me, wasn't it?"</p><p><br/> Camille can't decide whether to be frustrated or heartbroken by how logical he'd thought his solution was. Instead, she decides to ask, "Why did you think I wouldn't want to remember you?"</p><p><br/> "Because you believed I was the most annoying man you'd ever met."</p><p><br/> Camille stands up, suddenly aware that having the room between them is just too much. "Yes, believed is the operative word there. When I first met you I found you pompous and arrogant. I thought you considered yourself better than the people of Saint Marie because you were white, and English. Then I got to know you better and realized you were not like that at all. You became my friend, but then you were taken away from me at the moment I realized I wanted more than friendship. I spent every day of the past year wondering if I would ever be able to get over you or if I would spend the rest of my life broken-hearted."</p><p><br/> "Oh..." Richard suddenly diverts his gaze from hers, apparently feeling extremely guilty. "Well, I umm...I hope you never figure out how to get over me, because I think this time around you might be genuinely stuck with me. I believe if I tried to fake my death a second time, your mother might decide to make it real."</p><p><br/> Camille tries on a watery smile as she responds. "I think I can learn to be okay with that. However, what I will not be okay with is you making me stay up any later to go over these files. Come to bed. The case will still be here in the morning."<br/> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In case you guys hadn't figured out by how often I've been pointing out that they aren't using protection, the not entirely unwelcome surprise is that Camille will end up pregnant. I'd like to do a sort of time jump soon to where they're just starting to realize she is, but I've been stuck a bit with trying to figure out how to do so without sacrificing the undercover mission/tossing it aside. Any suggestions on how to accomplish this would be much appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know how else to describe this chapter other than to say that it's a wild ride.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"We need to find a way to get you into the dressing room," Camille states. They're two weeks into the case and she has a feeling the details that could manage to further break it open are the ones that would be seen by Richard's eye for clues. It won't be easy to get him into the dressing room of a strip club though, or even convince him that he needs to be there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, the moment Camille makes the suggestion, Richard turns a mortified shade of red. "Why would I do that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"To search for clues."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But Camille, you can...I can't go in a room with a bunch of naked women!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What if I made sure I was the only naked woman present? Surely my nudity would not be an embarrassment considering we are sleeping together?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richard looks for a second as if he is about to choke on his breakfast tea, but he recovers quickly. "Good Lord. Well, I still can't very well just walk in, even if my persona is quite the pig."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Richard supposed he should marvel at the fact that they have come up with a plan to get him into the dressing room, but as he storms backstage after catching "Fleur" flirting with another man, he can't help but feel it is all very ridiculous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Maybe he can allow the ridiculousness to be the thing that drives his false rage though. "You stupid little whore! Did you really think I wouldn't notice you flirting with another man?!" For extra dramatic effect, Richard sweeps a random item to the floor as a terrified dancer scuttles to get out of his way. He must actually be doing a good job at playing Nicky, even if the man makes him want to gag with disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon he reaches the dressing room door and begins to pound on it while continuing his fake tirade. "Open up Fleur! I know you're in there!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    True to her words earlier, Camille is the only person in the dressing room. Richard quickly realizes that she must have intended to be true to every word she had stated earlier. Ignoring the shoes she is wearing, there isn't a single stitch of clothing on her body. He isn't sure if it is her Frenchness, or the fact that they truly are involved which led to her thinking this is appropriate. Either way, it shocks Richard enough that it almost makes him forget what they had decided he is supposed to do next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Then it all comes back to him. He's supposed to shove her, and this is almost more terrifying than her nudity. Eventhough she's taught him some realistic looking fake fighting moves he is still terrified that laying a hand on her will lead to losing his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Camille seems to understand his anxiety and decides to urge him along by screaming at him. "What are you going to do? Are you going to hit me?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Richard instinctively knows that he's going to have to have to listen this time. Nicky isn't spineless, and he doesn't take well to taunts. Unthinkingly he reaches out and shoves at Camille. When she stumbles backwards he panics for a moment, thinking he's actually hurt her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He knows he has to push past her though, otherwise it will all be outed as fake. Seconds later Camille is back to glaring viciously at him, so he knows everything is working out just as planned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    This next move might be even trickier though. There are security cameras in the dressing room, which Richard finds to be wholly inappropriate, but apparently these cameras can only pick up video and not sound, but talking too much is probably also not a good idea because their fight has likely drawn eavesdroppers. So, in what is surely the weirdest event of his life, Richard Poole must maintain a persona of fake rage while in a strip club dressing room with a naked woman. At least this is a naked woman he trusts, and just maybe that makes things better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    So Richard pretends to angrily sweep things off a dressing table, too blind in his rage to realize that it isn't even Fleur's, but the one next to hers which Camille has stated belongs to a dancer named Manon. A dancer who's things suspiciously smell of Claude's cologne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There's one other dressing table Camille wants him to check, the one that belongs to the dancer who is also named Camille. There is nothing on the table of note, and Richard has a feeling he is going to have to find a way to look inside the drawer, but how?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Before he has time to think, Camille climbs onto the dressing table and sits with her legs spread wide, offering far too much of a view of a certain body part that a true lady should not be exposing in public.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Richard almost freezes his pretend rage in shock at what she is doing. Then as if to confuse him further, Camille asks in anger, "Isn't this what you want? For me just to be an object you can fuck?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Richard can only stare in confusion. She must be trying to tell him something in her strange, French way, but he really has no clue what.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Well, why don't you just stick your head in between my legs and show me that you really are a man, or are you too afraid of the cameras?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He now realizes that she's sitting in just the right position that he can pick the drawer lock out of view of the camera, but only if he pretends to be performing a sex act on her. He really does hate his partner right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    This definitely isn't the kind of behavior that is in any sort of manual, and this unsettles Richard. His feelings aren't particularly eased when Camille practically whines, "Don't stare at it like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Somehow he immediately knows exactly what she is talking about and is relieved that his position muffles his voice from any eavesdroppers. "Dear God Camille. Do you at least have something I can use to pick the lock?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Seconds later a bobby pin is placed in his hand. At least they are still working well together, even in this state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      The lock gives rather quickly and Richard is able to slide open the desk drawer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       "So...what do you see?" Before Richard can form a witty retort she adds, "In the drawer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      The only noteworthy item that Richard can see is a newspaper article about a missing woman and he states such before adding, "Her name is Adele Sargass. Isn't that the same last name as the woman who owns this dressing table?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Yes, now finish up and make it look convincing."</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>BTW yes the name thing last chapter was intentional although unfortunately I have not been able to find many episodes to watch of the show in question.  Oh and there has been about a two week time jump since the last chapter. They are a month into the case and Camille is at the stage where her "condition" is starting to show symptoms.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> Richard shifts the phone to his other ear so he can better hear the voice at the other end just as an almost blur of color darts past him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     As the bathroom door is thrown open followed by the sounds of Camille vomiting seconds later Richard is forced to change his priorities. "I'm sorry Sophie, can you e-mail us the murder investigation file on Adele Sargass? I have to hang up now, I think something is wrong with my partner."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    By the time he reaches the bathroom Camille is up again and rinsing her mouth out with water from the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   "Is something wrong my dear?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Camille glares at him for a moment, apparently not liking the term of endearment, before icily stating, "You should check if the butter is expired."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "The butter is not expired," Richard states without thinking, "It tastes just fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Then maybe it is the honey!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Camille, honey can't expire." Richard is growing a bit frustrated. He has been eating the exact same breakfast as she has and it has all tasted completely fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Don't yell at me!" Camille looks as if she is about to burst into tears and this stuns Richard into silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Okay, no yelling, just let me check your temperature." She doesn't feel warm, and this confuses Richard. "You don't have a fever, but let me get you some crackers to eat to settle your stomach."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      "And milk. Whenever I had an upset stomach as a girl, Maman would always give me crackers and milk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      When Richard turns to look at Camille he is immediately struck by how scared and uncertain she looks. Although they are both adults in the midst of a very adult situation, he can almost see the little girl whom he assumes would wrap herself in a blanket and cuddle on Catherine's lap whenever she was ill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Now, something that confuses her is happening to her body and she can't even call her mother for advice, and Richard realizes numbly that it is all his fault. If he hadn't felt so terrified of having a fulfilling life on Saint Marie, she would never have been driven away by his absence. As he prepares a plate of crackers and a glass of milk for Camille he vows that once they have cracked this case he will swallow his pride and take her back to her home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Meanwhile, he is going to care for her the best he can. After he places the milk and crackers in front of her he retreats to their bedroom to grab the warmest blanket out of the closet to wrap her in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Once Camille is wrapped up, Richard puts out another ultimatum. "We're not going to the club tonight."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     This seems to bring back the Camille he is used to being around with full force. "I will have all day to rest. We are too close to solving this to take a day off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     When Richard opens his mouth to protest she shoots him a glare. He may want to protect her, but he isn't winning this round. "Well, why don't we check if my contact has e-mailed the case file yet?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Richard opens up his laptop and immediately sees that the e-mail from his contact, Sophie Wickersham, has indeed arrived. Camille however, takes notice of something different. "Should I be concerned?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Your contact is a woman."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Even with his limited understanding of body language, Richard can tell Camille is more than a little jealous of the name onscreen. He might be convinced to find this comical, but he knows if he laughs he will risk far too much. "She's roughly the same age as your mother, and a rather flamboyant lesbian I might add, but if you would like to know, I do have a history with her. She was my mentor at Croydon, and practically the only person who treated me like a human being."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      "Oh." Suddenly the last comment has turned the situation away from being one of light teasing. "I'm sorry Richard, I shouldn't have been so quick to make assumptions. Maybe I can meet her someday? She's clearly someone important to you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Richard has another moment of uncertainty. He's sure Camille and Sophie would hit it off, and that isn't exactly a problem, except he can imagine having all his embarrassing stories about being a young copper immediately aired to the woman he is already convinced he would like to marry someday, giving Camille all kinds of new blackmail to use against him. "Yes, well maybe at some point. We've kind of got a case to work on right now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     His deflection sends Camille into a fit of adorable giggles, but they immediately stop once he clicks on the case file and a gruesome image of a blonde woman with her torso sliced open appears onscreen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      "Well, let's just scroll past that. Look, here's something interesting. It says here that she worked as an exotic dancer here in Paris and it sounds like she has a sister."</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Didn't find an easy way to mention it, but Adele Sargass died in London which is why Sophie had the file.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>     Richard finds himself restless as he stands at the bar of the strip club. This place has been his near nightly haunt for a month and he hates it. He hates the regulars who come here night after night to stare at women he is sure they don't see as people. He hates the fact that often these women go missing, and nobody, save for an occasional family member, cares. More than anything though, he finds himself thinking of his partner. There have been far too many nights where, after they have left the club, she has admitted to feeling exhausted and demeaned, both by the way men in the club treat her and by being forced to play a much younger woman. Now, he fears she has managed to work herself to illness, and yet she still won't back down and rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He also finds himself thinking back to Saint Marie. She'll be happy being back on that island, and he realizes he can learn to be happy there too. In fact, the reason he had hated it all so much before was that he had been the one who had stubbornly forced to acclimate. Not speaking French until he left. Wearing the suits that constantly put him minutes away from heat stroke and refusing to install central air in the shack. Worst of all, he'd refused to accept his team as friends. He's never assumed he was better than them for being white and British as Camille had initially worried, in fact he'd instantly admired this vibrant group of individuals who had their own way of living. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      However he had come to the island with a lot of hurt in his heart. He'd been all too aware of how unwanted he had been at Croydon. On Saint Marie, he had harbored the painful assumption that his team treated him with respect solely because he was the inspector. If he is to return to the island and accept his friendships he realizes he can't be inspector again. If he returns to his old title he will never be able to believe that the team accepts him as he is. Maybe when he has time he'll mention to Camille that he would like to go into semi-retirement, perhaps on a consulting basis, and maybe even write a book about his experiences with police work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Suddenly, one of the dancers rushes out from backstage and startles Richard with a grouping of words he never wanted to hear. "Fleur collapsed backstage. She hit her head and is bleeding pretty badly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      The next hour feels like an eternity. Richard knows that he must keep up the Nicky persona. He has no idea how badly Camille is hurt, and she could very well be incapacitated enough that she will no longer be able to make any decisions  for the immediate future. He can't let her down, or further endanger her with sloppy case work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Of course professional concern isn't his only worry. An intensely powerful knot forms in Richard's stomach reminding him that the woman he loves is injured and instead of rushing to her side he must play cool indifference long enough to collect her things and only then can he finally take his car and head to the hospital. By the time he reaches the nurse's station, over an hour has passed since he last saw Camille being wheeled out of the club on a stretcher, and this only manages to further turn him into a ball of nerves to the point that he can't help but yell at the nurse in a fashion that Nicky would likely be very proud of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Camille is scared. She's not one to admit to being such very often, but something just feels wrong about her body and she can't quite put her finger on what it is. Perhaps Richard had been right about staying away from the strip club, but some natural born stubbornness had made her want to disobey his suggestion, and that stubbornness had cost her dearly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Of course, she had never expected to have a sudden dizzy spell, or to fall and slice her face open on the corner of her dressing table. That is the part that scares her. She can't remember the last time she was ill as an adult, and now she is sick, injured and alone in a Parisian hospital where the nurses seem to be treating her as a lesser person because of her presumed career. Camille wants to scream at these awful women, but more than anything she doesn't want to be alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Then suddenly her second wish is answered. She hears a familiar, English-accented male voice yelling at one of the loathsome nurses in rather impressive French, and seconds later Richard sweeps into the exam room looking almost more like a lost child than a knight in shining armor, but his presence is still welcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "They stitched me up and had me go through an MRI machine, but they haven't even bothered to tell me the results, and I think the nurses believe I am on drugs."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Why would they believe that? You didn't even take anti-nausea medication this morning."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Camille attempts a Gallic shrug before stating, "Because I am not in a respectable profession and it is clearly just one step over from taking off my clothes to doing drugs."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Jesus, do you want me to have a word with their superiors?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     This new defensive Richard is certainly endearing, but Camille quickly realizes that if he leaves to defend her honor, she will be left alone again. "Please don't leave me alone. I'm...I'm a little frightened right now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       "Oh." This admission must surprise Richard, because he looks at her sharply for a second, but then he begins to delicately stroke her hair, likely in an attempt at comfort. "Please tell me what happened tonight, Camille."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "I don't know. I just felt really dizzy suddenly, and then I stumbled and hit myself on the dressing table. How bad does the cut look?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Rather than answer her, Richard places what she now realizes is her purse on the table next to her, allowing her to retrieve her makeup mirror. When Camille finally has a chance to look at herself she is greeted with a long, nasty cut that trails down half the left side of her face and makes her gasp in fear. She doesn't want to consider herself a vain person, but part of her worries that it will not heal without leaving a scar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Richard hurriedly snatches the mirror out of her hands before apologizing. "Sorry. Why don't we discuss something else, like our plans after we complete this case."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Camille isn't sure why, but this suggestion causes tears to prick at her eyes. "I thought our plans were going to be together?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       "Yes, of course they are, and that is precisely why we need to make sure we are on the same page with them. For instance, if you wanted to stay in Paris and I wanted us to return to Saint Marie, that could very well be a disaster."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Camille blinks in sudden confusion at the very unRichardlike admission, suddenly convinced that he is the one who has hit his head. "You want us to return to Saint Marie?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      The look in his eyes tells her that he is truly being earnest about his suggestion. "Yes. I know it sounds completely unlike me to suggest that, but I want you to be completely, insanely happy and I believe you would have trouble being such with your home and your mother halfway around the globe and I can learn to love the island, and maybe just maybe I can even learn to tolerate your mother."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "You'd really do that for me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "No Camille, for us. Because nothing would make me happier than waking up next to you every day for the rest of my life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       A sudden idea pops into Camille's brain and she wonders if voicing it will be pushing things too far, but nonetheless she pushes forward with it. "You know, the commissioner has mentioned wanting to sell the shack where you lived. Perhaps we should buy it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      "Why?" The question does suggest that he may not be completely happy with her suggestion, but he hasn't launched into one of his rants, so Camille assumes she has not been shut down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Because it is where we first met."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "While you were pretending to be someone else," Richard snorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Yes, but we also made so many wonderful memories there, as Camille and Richard, and it is secluded enough to be a lover's nest."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Well, I did quite enjoy using Lucy on the verandah." Although Richard is referencing his prized telescope, Camille can sense that the affection in his eyes is only for her. Suddenly though he turns serious again. "There definitely needs to be some construction work done, like converting the sitting room into a larger, more centralized kitchen. A new coat of paint on the…" He stops again, apparently realizing something else. "And of course whatever you believe needs to be added." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Camille can't help but smile about his remembering to include her, but she has to think for a moment about what she wants and can't immediately think of any major changes, so instead she states, "We need a large, sturdy bookshelf to hold both of our books, and lots of photos of the people we love."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "I like those suggestions." Richard leans down to kiss her forehead as someone clears their throat in the doorway of the exam room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    When Camille looks up she sees a white coat clad doctor, and for a moment she feels relief until the man seems to completely disregard her presence and directs his comments at Richard. "Well, she doesn't have any internal bleeding which is quite fortunate, but Sir, can you tell me exactly what happened to your girlfriend?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "He wasn't with me when I fell," Camille hisses, ignoring the doctor's apparent inability to let her speak for herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Does she have any previous medical conditions?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Camille exchanges a look with Richard behind the sexist doctor's back. She hopes that without words she can tell him that she will allow him to speak for her this time, but only because she wants to go home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Ca-Fleur was unable to hold down breakfast this morning, and she had a dizzy spell right before she fell." Here's to hoping that the doctor is so caught up in his inability to see Camille as a full person that he doesn't realize Richard's unintentional combination of her real and undercover name sounds strangely close to the word cauliflower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Instead, the man seems to be caught up on something else. "Hmm, and I take it you two are sexually active?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "That's highly personal," Richard bristles immediately, but Camille has a sudden feeling she knows exactly where this is going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    They have been sexually active, quite frequently, and Camille has to admit that the first few times they didn't use any form of protection. Before she'd known exactly who she would be working with she had also decided not to go on birth control. Camille certainly hadn't expected to be sexually active and she knew she was going to need to look her best to play a younger woman.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     In the doctor's mind,the woman he knows as Fleur may be pregnant, and Camille suspects he may be right, but she doesn't want to discover the answer to this question in a cold, unfriendly hospital surrounded by heartless strangers. "I want to go home now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Much to her relief, the doctor allows her to be discharged. By this time it is almost midnight and she has been in the same hideous, and hideously uncomfortable "sexy" outfit for far too many hours, but there's now a new discomfort hanging over her head. There's no way she will be able to wait until morning to learn if the doctor's suspicions are correct, and no way she can enter a late night pharmacy looking as badly as she does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Luckily Richard seems intent on earning his status as her knight in shining armor, and after wrapping her in his coat to ward off the chill he dashes into a pharmacy only to return a few minutes later with a bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     When they reach the apartment, Camille opens it up and finds herself immediately puzzled. Obscuring the other contents is a large, pink teddy bear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Did you grab the wrong bag?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "Camille, I was the only one in the pharmacy besides the cashier." Richard almost sounds indignant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "You bought a stuffed bear?" Camille pulls the item out of the bag immediately realizing that it is actually quite soft, and holding a heart in its' paws.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     "I umm...I thought you deserved some sort of present after everything you've went through tonight. But if you dislike it I suppose I can find some way to get rid of it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    She shouldn't be surprised by the gift. After all, she's always known that he can be gentle and considerate when need be. Still, she's never took him to be the type to give out what she assumes he probably sees as a cheap, mass market trinket. However, he must have realized she is exactly the type who enjoys receiving such gifts. "It's wonderful. Let me put it in the bedroom."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    A look of relief washes over Richard's face. "Do you want to take a bath before…" He can't seem to bring himself to finish his sentence but she knows exactly what he means.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    "Yes, and if it's not too much to ask I was hoping you would stay up with me. I don't want to find out alone."</span>
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